Christian Living

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Larry Lilly's Letter Wednesday November 26, 2008

The other day some friends and I were talking about the upcoming Thanksgiving Holiday. The first thing on our list was turkey, the bird, not the country. Football was next on the list. We then moved on to lesser things such as family, friends and our freedom, though the republicans in the group wanted to get this part of the conversation over with.

I recalled fondly the 67 Thanksgiving Dinners I have endured, though the memory of the first few is a little foggy. I do have enough memories that when friends ask if I am going "home" for Thanksgiving, I look at them as though they are daft, as one of the things I am thankful for is that I live 700 miles from my birth family and my real family, the wife children and their families is right here within an 80 minute drive, though I often wish I were another 700 miles West of the East Coast.

I am for the most part a rather simple, bare bones kind of guy and having any food is something for which I am thankful having spent more than a few truly hungry days in my life. As such I miss the point of fretting about dressing laced with Oysters, as I have often wondered just how hungry the first person to eat an Oyster must have been. I know when Oysters are mentioned there will be an argument about whether or not the Oyster is from the Northern or Southern part of the Chesapeake Bay. The reason for this is stated thusly: "Oysters from the Northern district have firmer shells and the meat has a nuttier flavor, while Oysters from the Southern district seem more mellow and are much easier to shuck."

I understand from the Old Timers that this theological discussion has raged for more than four centuries and is at its hottest at a hotel on Tangier Island. Francis Scott Key just added fuel to the fire when he spent a few nights there after the Battle of Baltimore, and refused to deal with the issue in The Star Spangled Banner. He could have worked it in and settled the issue once for all. I do not care for dressing or Oysters, and as The Great Blonde has remarked on occasion, "You are what you eat and Larry likes Crabs." I instinctively know there is a hidden message in her statement.

The conversation during the days leading up to the celebration of Dead Turkeys is revealing in that the ladies are always comparing the size, appearance, weight and texture of this year’s turkey with the truly gorgeous ones of Thanksgivings Past. The Turkey of Thanksgiving Past is more persistently in the minds of the girls, than Dickenson’s Ghost of Christmas Past.

Have you considered just how ludicrous it is to attempt to get into the spirit of the "First Thanksgiving" when 98% of the people gathered for the modern feast are signed up at Weight Watchers, or at least should be?

Wise men know that after the feast, history, social grace and perhaps the Bible, though most modern translations have removed the verse, demand that the men at the feast spend the rest of the month assuring the women that this Thanksgiving Dinner was the best. If the man's mother is still alive he must be careful to imply that one or two more such dinners and the little wife of 49 and one half years, will fix the best one ever. And if the Mother is departed for that Great Turkey Feast in the sky, then, and never before then, the wife of his youth can rightfully claim the crown of The Best Ever.

George Burns put it well when he said:

"Happiness is having a large, loving, caring, close knit family in another city."

Larry Lilly Copyright © 2008 Use with credit.

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